


Lessons to be Learned

by naasad



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack Treated Seriously, Everybody Lives, M/M, Meddling Wizard(s), Medium Burn, Mix of book and movie canon, Perks of a Long-Winded Narrator, Shenanigans, Thorin Pls, thanks bilbo, werecreatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 13:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naasad/pseuds/naasad
Summary: "I believe," Lord Elrond said, managing to look exasperated and amused at the same time, "that the proper word for a were-lion Dwarf would be a Leonanope."Thorin growled, baring his bloody long teeth and looking like he wasn't even going to bother to resist tearing out the Elf-Lord's throat should the urge arise.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thorin:  
> 
> 
> Fili:  
> 
> 
> Kili:  
> 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own these images.
> 
> Also, I know [black lions aren't a real thing](www.snopes.com/fact-check/black-lion) but this is fiction, so I do what I want.
> 
> Also, I only realized how much Tolkien would hate me for putting talking lions in his work after I started and now I'm committed. Pissing off the ghosts of old white men hell yeah.
> 
> Tharkun is canonically Gandalf's name in Khuzdul.

When Tharkûn first arrived, Thorin was sleeping by the fire, having just returned from a Council meeting. Within the hour, he was on his feet and headed out the door, Dwalin, Fíli, and Kíli at his heels.

Dís rubbed her temples, sighing. “I wish he would just take a break. He’s no good to us dead. He’ll run the boys down, too, before they know it.”

The old man’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I may be able to do something about that.”

The next morning, Dís screamed and grabbed her axe as a large black lion with a silver mane padded its way downstairs, spotted cub tucked carefully in its mouth.

The lion gave her a rather unimpressed look and set the cub on the ground. “I assume Tharkûn has already left.”

Dís squinted at the beast. “Thorin?” Her eyes dropped to the cub at his feet. “And Kíli?”

Thorin’s tail lashed.

A sound rather like a roar, but not quite there yet, bellowed from upstairs.

“And Fíli,” Thorin said. “We couldn’t get his room unlocked.”

Dís sighed and resigned herself to an eventful morning. “Sometimes, you three are more trouble than you’re worth.”

Kíli, still just a little cub, gave a soft cry at that.

Thorin harrumphed, grabbed his nephew, and trotted off to the warmth of the fireplace.

A few moments later, Fíli joined them as well, despairing over his short mane.

“At least you still have one,” Kíli squeaked.

Fíli spent the next hour cooing over his little brother. And didn’t that bring back memories?

“Alright,” Dís finally said. “Tell me why you think Tharkûn was the one who did this.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow – as much as a lion could raise an eyebrow at any rate. “Who else could it be? Though what he thought he was fixing with this is anyone’s guess.”

Dís flashed back to their conversation the night before and groaned.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo finds out something about Thorin and something about Gandalf.

Bilbo had quite thought he was prepared for anything an adventure could throw at him – not prepared to deal with it necessarily, but prepared for whichever one of innumerable options ‘it’ turned out to be.

He was wrong.

Thorin glared at him. This was nothing new. The King without a Mountain had very nearly done nothing but since he had joined on this Very Important Quest. The newness of it came from the fact that Thorin was currently a lion very much taller than Bilbo with a mouth that could fit his whole head, not to mention the fact that he looked very hungry.

Yes, Thorin was much less scary before he had teeth the size of the Burglar’s entire hand.

The lion harrumphed and turned his back, padding across the campsite to pick up a cub – Kíli or Fíli no doubt – in his mouth and carry him back to his bedroll. He glared at Bilbo as he passed him again and then flopped down and started to give the cub a firm licking behind the ears.

Kíli squealed. “Uncle! Uncle!”

Thorin put a paw on his back, pinning him down. “You are a Prince of Durin’s line, you will not go about like a highwayman who has never before heard the term ‘bathe’, no matter what form you take.”

“Do it to Fíli then!”

“I will once he returns.”

Dwalin blinked blearily as he awoke, then turned to see Thorin, Kíli, and Bilbo staring at the two of them. “Go back to sleep, lad,” he grunted. “We won’t be moving til the day after tomorrow now.”

“The day after tomorrow?” Bilbo asked. “Oh! Is it somehow tied to the new moon?”

“Blasted wizards,” Thorin rumbled.

Gandalf rolled over in his own bedroll. “Ah,” he said, “I see the enchantment still lasts. I suppose the lesson I had in mind has not yet been learnt.”

Thorin growled and unleashed a stream of curses in Khuzdul.

“What lesson?” Bilbo asked.

Gandalf tapped the side of his nose and winked. “That would be telling.”

“Oh.” Bilbo put his thumbs in his braces and rocked back on his heels, deep in thought. “Why the new moon, though? You know, there’s talk that a Took ancestor of mine once wed a fairy, so we Bagginses have learned a thing or two, being so closely related – though all the more proper if we can help it, and you’ve done nothing for my reputation, Gandalf! – and I was under the impression that if you wanted to do a bit of changing magic, you wanted the full moon.”

Gandalf chuckled. “Indeed! You are correct, Master Baggins. The moon is a great source of power, and for such a spell, you do want some oomph to go along with it. However – and I will tell you a secret here – my older brother lives on the moon. Or, rather, he drives it. Tilion is his name, and you may recognize it from your brief study of Elvish history as a lad. At any rate, were he to know I was using his power for such a thing, he would be very cross with me, and I would like to avoid that, if I can.”

"Your brother drives the moon?"

“Mahal save us from long-winded speeches!” Thorin roared. “Where is Fíli?”

“Here, Uncle,” Fíli said, though as he was in the process of dragging a very large deer back to camp for skinning and cooking, it sounded rather more like “Huhugga.”

Where Thorin was a great black lion with a silver mane and Kíli was a tiny cub yet still to lose his spots, Fíli was a tawny adolescent, with a mane just growing in. He dropped his kill by the dying fire and licked his chops. “I’ve brought breakfast enough for all of us.”

Thorin nodded regally – somehow it managed to look twice as regal coming from his current form. “Bombur!” he growled, tail lashing. “Bombur!”

Dwalin groaned, then reached out to smack Bombur on the shoulder. “Up wit’ ye, already! The rest of us are tryin’ tae enjoy our sleep!”

Bombur grunted and came to, seemingly unfazed by Thorin’s most obvious change in appearance. He patted Fíli on the head, though he had to reach to do it, and went to work preparing breakfast.

“Is everyone used to this?” Bilbo asked, still unable and unwilling to sleep so close such a large predator.

“More or less,” Bombur grumbled.

Bofur yawned and rolled over, half asleep perhaps as he mumbled “Aye, he’s still just as bossy either way, don’t see why it should make any difference to us.”

Thorin’s tail lashed against the ground, and he growled.

Bilbo chittered nervously. “Are you sure you should be saying such things?”

Bofur raised his head to stare at Thorin. “With all due respect, Your Majesty,” he made a rather rude gesture with his left hand, “bugger off, you great git.”

Thorin rolled his eyes and stood, dragging Fíli back to his bedroll by the scruff of his neck, intent on giving him the same thorough cleaning afforded to his brother.

“See?” Bofur yawned. “He’s not tame, but he’s neither foolish, least not in this. Wake me when breakfast’s ready.” And then he was snoring again.

Bilbo stared.

“Stop gawping and either help Bombur or go back to sleep, halfling,” Thorin grunted.

“I’m not half of anything, thank you very much,” Bilbo muttered, turning back to his blankets.

“What was that?” Thorin growled.

Bilbo turned, shaking in his metaphorical boots, and drew up to his full height. “I said I’m not half of anything, thank you!” he squeaked.

The look in Thorin’s eyes softened into something very nearly but not quite approaching respect. He nodded sternly and went back to mothering his nephews.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is very nearly an international incident in Rivendell.

“We’ve been in Rivendell too long,” Thorin grumbled, padding into Balin’s quarters.

The old Dwarf smiled. “What makes you say that?”

Thorin held up a paw.

Dwalin guffawed. “Have ye tired of clogging all their drains already, your Majesty?”

“Gloín already took care of that for me,” Thorin harrumphed, flopping down near the fire. “What?” he growled when the brothers stared at him. “It’s warm.”

“It’s just one more day,” Balin said. “Don’t worry. I’m sure the Elves will act with as much dignity as they can muster.”

Thorin and Dwalin snorted in unison.

At that moment, there was a great screaming from the hall outside.

Thorin bounded to his feet and ran full tilt to the source, where he found a pair of identical Elves had picked up Kíli by the scruff of his neck and were playfully dangling him above the ground. He roared and pounced on the one, tackling him to the ground and snapping in his face, just as Fíli appeared to take out the other.

Thorin growled as he backed away, grabbing Kíli in his mouth and running back to the safety of his quarters. “We should never have come here,” he said, tucking his terrified nephew close to his body.

“It’s not that bad,” Fíli said.

Kíli whimpered.

Fíli leaned down and nuzzled his brother. “Not until the moon went away, at least.”

Kíli shook and tried to take a step away from his uncle, but Thorin pushed him back. “Did you overhear their names?” he asked.

Kíli nodded. “I did. I don’t think they meant any harm, they thought I was cat, said their last one had liked that quite a bit.”

“Why any creature would enjoy being dangled so far above ground I don’t understand,” Fíli said.

Thorin snorted. “Perhaps their last cat had some sort of deficiency.”

“Or it thought it was being held by its mother,” Kíli suggested.

“Like I said, some sort of deficiency.” Thorin huffed. “I’ll be having words with Lord Elrond at breakfast.”

 

* * *

 

 

Bilbo yawned and stretched as he woke – in a proper bed, too! – and he took a moment to enjoy the sun on his face before getting dressed and making his way down to breakfast. He wasn’t expecting to be hit with the sudden stench of wet cat nor to see a dripping Thorin looking smug as you please at Lord Elrond’s left hand.

"I believe," Lord Elrond said, managing to look exasperated and amused at the same time, "that the proper word for a were-lion Dwarf would be a Leonanope."

Thorin growled, baring his bloody long teeth and looking like he wasn't even going to bother to resist tearing out the Elf-Lord's throat should the urge arise.

“And what is the reason for your appearance this morning, Your Majesty?” Elrond asked, perhaps sensing it was a better time for diplomacy.

Thorin’s tail lashed behind him. “Two of your Elves behaved appallingly, torturing my nephew last night. I rescued him and then I woke up in the fountain this morning.”

Elrond bit back what was most likely a comment about how Thorin needed to work on his awareness if two Elves could enter his rooms and carry him to the fountain in his current state without him waking. “I see,” he said instead. “And do you know the names of these Elves?”

“Elladan and Elrohir,” Thorin growled.

Elrond froze.

Gandalf choked on his wine. “I wasn’t aware,” he said when he had recovered, “that your sons were in Imladris.”

“Neither was I,” Elrond admitted.

“Your sons.” Thorin snarled. “Your sons and heirs thought to treat mine so terribly? I thought the Elves ignorant, but perhaps there is more ill will than I suspected.”

“Peace,” Elrond said, raising a hand. “No one escapes those two – not even their grandfather, Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien, nor their cousin, King Thranduil. Had I known they were here, I would’ve sent them away until you were gone.”

Thorin opened his mouth to say something snide, and Bilbo cleared his throat, approaching the head table with as much courage as he could muster. “Excuse me, Lord Elrond, but what exactly did they do to King Thranduil?”

Elrond’s mouth twitched up at the corners. “They exchanged his wardrobe with my late wife’s. It was quite amusing to watch him chase after them in only his underthings.”

Thorin sat back, whiskers twitching in amusement. “I suppose I can forgive them just this once. But if it happens again, I will eat them. There’s no blasted meat in this place,” he pounded a heavy paw on the bench, “it would be my pleasure.”

“Ah, yes,” Elrond said, “I suppose you’ll need a change of diet with the stomach of a feline.” He raised a hand and suddenly whole fowls and two pigs were brought to the tables. “My hunters and cooks have been busy since your arrival, and I was told this morning that the feast was finally ready.”

Bilbo strongly suspected Thorin of eating with the worst manners possible that morning. On the road, he’d take almost delicate bites, holding his paws away from his food so as not to get hair in it, but then he attacked his food, holding it down and hunching over it, ripping into it with his teeth and not caring where spittle and juices landed.

Privately, Bilbo also thought Lord Elrond somewhat deserved it.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lions and bears, oh my!

It was just luck that had them reach Beorn’s in time for another new moon. Not bad luck, nor good luck, certainly, just luck. Bilbo woke early, already knowing what to expect by this point, and watched as Thorin stretched, first bowing backwards with his arse in the air, then forwards, ‘til one by one, his back legs had enough and hit the ground ready for the day.

The first thing he always did was go to find Kíli. The little cub had a habit of getting lost in his bedroll, his cries uncomfortable in reminding them all of how young he really was even as a Dwarf. The easiest way to circumvent this uncomfortableness then was to rescue the cub from his blankets before he even awoke.

Thorin growled as he nosed the empty sheets, nearly ready to wake the whole company and demand they look.

“Here,” Bilbo called softly.

Thorin looked up and padded over to where his nephew dozed in Bilbo’s lap, making soft noises in his sleep as he was petted. He huffed. “Did he come to you or did you take him?”

“Bit of both,” Bilbo admitted. “I was getting up to look at the flowers – Beorn must be a great gardener, did you know? Half his flora isn’t even in season! – and the poor boy was whimpering in his sleep, it must have been a nightmare. I woke him and he asked to stay with me. Who was I to say no? I swear, he could defeat the dragon himself just by giving him those eyes.”

Thorin huffed in amusement and flopped down, shoulder pressed up against Bilbo’s side. “I would almost believe that,” he said, “save it doesn’t work on his mother.”

Bilbo gaped. “Really?”

Thorin nodded, yawning.

Bilbo flinched a bit to have those teeth so close to his face, then he remembered it was Thorin.

“He used them so often, she became immune,” Thorin finished. “When I have children, I’ll train them to use such assets sparingly. Everything in moderation.”

Bilbo reached out to sink his hand in Thorin’s thick mane.

Thorin’s ear twitched but he didn’t protest.

“You want children, Thorin? What has kept you? I’d imagine dwarrowdams would come from miles around to be your bride, prince and king as you are.”

Thorin smiled and blinked slowly, putting a paw on Bilbo’s knee. “I’ve never been one who fancies ladies.”

“Ah,” Bilbo said. “Another confirmed bachelor such as myself then.”

Thorin hummed. “Is that so?”

“Ah, yes. You know, my grandfather was the Thain of the Shire. It’s quite similar to a King, but also quite different. At any rate, I’m not expected to continue the family line on account of all my uncles and my many cousins, and a good thing, too. There was a time my Aunt would parade all sorts of young ladies by my home in Bag End – her excuse of course was that she just happened to be taking them on a walking holiday at the same time as I was tending to my garden. Hobbit ladies tend to like you with your sleeves rolled up and dirt under your fingernails, signs of a hardworking lad those. At any rate I knew what she was up to for real, introducing me to all these potential wives and them to me, but it never worked. There’s just something to be said about the masculine figure.”

Thorin snorted. “And what, pray tell, is it that could be said?”

“Well.” Bilbo glanced down at the sleeping Kíli. “There are children present.”

Thorin chuckled.

“But broad shoulders for one. Hm, yes, broad shoulders, indeed. And narrow hips and a flat chest. I’d never know what to do with….” Bilbo gestured to his chest. “Not without some practice I don’t think.”

“There are some men who have those, you know,” Thorin said.

“Well, yes, I do know, I was simply giving examples. They’re not universal, you know. There are plenty men with narrow shoulders as well, just as there are plenty with wide hips. Perhaps, I’d say, a masculine soul is preferable to a masculine figure but either way, ladies simply aren’t my cup of tea.”

“Hm.” Thorin tilted his head.

“What is it?” Bilbo asked. “Did I get something on my face?”

“No,” Thorin said slowly. “I’ve simply thought of something I hadn’t before.”

Kíli stirred then. “I prefer ladies and lads,” he said.

Thorin stood and gave him a rough swipe of the tongue behind his ears.

Kíli squawked.

“And how long were you listening?”

“Not long,” Kíli said, squirming away. “But you were talking right above me.”

“He is right,” Bilbo said.

“Thank you.” Kíli nuzzled Bilbo’s hand. “You’ll be my Uncle if this one ever gets to be too much, won’t you?”

Bilbo exchanged an amused look with Thorin. “Of course, I will. But I shall be very stern. You must eat your greens, dress like a proper Hobbit, and be in bed before sundown. And you must never go swimming, because if you start to drown, I shan’t be able to save you, and you wouldn’t subject your poor uncle to being helpless to do nothing but watch you die now, would you?”

“You can’t swim?” Thorin asked, seemingly shocked out of his wits.

“Of course, that’s what I just said, is it not? Proper Hobbits don’t swim, it reeks too much of adventure. My mother could swim, but she was a Took, and Tooks for all their wealth are not very proper Hobbits.” Bilbo patted Kíli’s head. “No, indeed, you shall have to be a proper Baggins, and that means no adventures of any kind.”

“No adventures?” Thorin asked. He tossed his head, perhaps trying to gesture at the rest of the company, all now in various degrees of wakefulness.

Bilbo smiled. “Well. I never said _I_ was a proper Baggins. Certainly, not anymore.”


	5. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All is well.

Thorin caged in Mirkwood was a terrible sight.

Thorin on the battlefield, teeth tearing into armor as if it were paper, yet unprotected himself, was terrifying.

Thorin, sleepily waking after a long night spend together, that was delightful.

Bilbo swept the hair out of his eyes, then frowned as he realized something. “It’s the new moon tonight.”

Thorin shot awake, looking at his hands, front and back.

“You must’ve learned the lesson Gandalf meant for you to learn,” Bilbo said, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “I wonder what it was.”

Thorin smiled softly and turned to press kisses to his burglar’s face. “I have somewhat of an idea.”

The door slammed open then and Bilbo hastily pulled the sheets over his body.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Kíli cried. “The curse is broken!”

Thorin simply glared. “Kíli. If you do not leave now, Mahal help me, I will stand up.”

Kíli froze and looked over the two of them, then squeaked and ran away. He paused at the door. “Does this make Bilbo my uncle for real? I don’t want to have to be a proper Baggins!”

“That’s it!” Thorin only got his hands under him before Kíli was gone.

“You wouldn’t really have scarred him so bad, would you?” Bilbo asked, settling down with his head on his lover’s chest.

Thorin grunted. “He would’ve deserved it. Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t seen me naked before.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “Oh, what are you talking about now?”

“Bilbo,” Thorin said, as if he were patiently explaining something of great importance to a very young child. “Did you not notice that when I was in the form of a lion, I wasn’t wearing any clothes?”

Bilbo promptly turned red from scalp to toes and buried himself in furs with a dismayed squeak.

Thorin laughed.

“I will never be a proper Hobbit ever again!” Bilbo cried. “You’ve ruined my reputation!”

“Is that so bad?” Thorin asked, pulling the covers away to look him in the eye.

Bilbo sighed, smiling, then shook his head. “No, it’s not a bad thing at all.” He paused, tilting his head. “Perhaps that’s the lesson Gandalf wanted _me_ to learn.”

Thorin growled and leaned down for a kiss. “Meddling wizards.”


End file.
